


taking the heat

by Elsword



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Human Genitalia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Shadowbringers, blanche is male but uses she/her pronouns most often! its valid Trust me on this, cumflation, miqo'te headcanons, mute character, twelve forgive me for outing myself like this to everyone who knows me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 03:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20036872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsword/pseuds/Elsword
Summary: The Source. Home. Blanche's mind wanders like her body does, through the Lavender Beds.Their little family had been home for a couple days now, and somehow she's not sure she's used to it yet. Aside from the lack of blinding light even in the evenings, the absence of weight feels almost..abnormal, now.





	taking the heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [armethaumaturgy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/gifts).

> I'm So Sorry For This

The Source. Home. Blanche's mind wanders like her body does, through the Lavender Beds.

Their little family had been home for a couple days now, and somehow she's not sure she's used to it yet. Aside from the lack of blinding light even in the evenings, the absence of weight feels almost..abnormal, now. 

White paws step silently over vegetation. No clank of metal boots, a heavy weight from her back missing entirely. A breeze brushes bare skin, rustling the soft, thin - _ vulnerable, _ ** _vulnerable_ ** _ , you need your armor, _her mind screams - fabric of her shirt.

She missed her home. Their home. She looks up the incline at the flowered archway, stopping under it to prop a hand against the side. Blanche leans against it for a moment, her other hand touching her head.

The miqo'te felt… warm. Dizzy, almost. She almost brushes it off as a side effect of everything they've been up to, but there's a weight on her chest now, making it hard to breathe.

Her throat is dry, and her tail curls by her foot out of nervousness. Her mind is racing, like trying to run torso-deep in water, when it clicks.

A look around with a concerned gaze.

No..it isn't- it can't be- it's not _ Spring _\- but-!

The realization makes it hit her, heavy and suffocating like she's been forced under a heated comforter in the middle of Sagolii. 

The pressure on her chest come back, like a sharp stomp, and it knocks the breath out of her. The miqo'te's claws rake through the wood of the archway with a shudder.

Inside. Inside, NOW.

Blanche grits her teeth, cursing as she pushes off the wood. The way her fur bristles at the back of her neck and base of her tail causes uncomfortable friction against her shirt collar and shorts, a hiss under her breath when she digs for her keys.

Her frustration increases as she tries to push the key in the lock, fingers not cooperating as they should.

A breath of fleeting relief escapes her when she finally clicks the lock, haphazardly tearing the door open and barely managing to land her keys in the basket where they're kept. The door shuts behind her, loud in her unheeding ears, too busy making haste through the flowers and down the stairs.

Her red top is torn off and discarded far before she even makes it to the bed.

Blanche crawls into the padded circular nest, every brush of skin against fabric feeling like the sandpaper of her own tongue, though far more grating. She collapses in the middle, gasping for air, fighting to keep a hand from clawing at her throat through the false suffocation.

It had never been this bad before. 

A weak call of her husband’s name tumbles from her lips. Desperate.

No answer. She’s home alone, - _ of course she is, the door was locked. _ \- Iphi likely off shopping for ingredients for dinner, or performing some request for someone.

Blanche hisses, tail thumping in frustration. Not at her rose, Gods no, but at the pang of possessiveness that bleeds through her heat at the thought. She grunts, scrambling to unbutton and push her shorts down, kicking some of her stuffed toys off the bed in the process.

Something, _ something, _ ** _anything_ ** \- the keeper bites into her pillow, rutting once, twice, against the comforter.

* * *

  


Iphi steps through the door, not entirely surprised to find the door unlocked. His own key is dropped in the basket, clinking against Blanche’s. He bounces the woven bag in his arms, adjusting the groceries he’s carrying to take downstairs.

He spares the discarded red top at the end of the stairs not a thought, it’s the middle of Summer, after all. His poor husband never did get used to the hot weather. Though… he could have sworn it was nice out today, a refreshing cool breeze on top of it all.

Oh well, he thinks.

He’s setting down his haul, when he senses something off. He smells it first, before he hears. It’s faint, not unpleasant, but it certainly isn’t the scent of the flowers he’s growing. The smell is familiar, but he can’t quite put a word to it, brows furrowing.

Then, the sound. A rattling rasp, a voice he’d recognize in a heartbeat. Iphi drops what he’s doing, bare feet padding to the sliding door, pushing it open with the intention to ask what’s wrong.

As soon as it opens, the smell hits him once again, thick and heavy, weighing down on him like a blanket, and finally he realizes what it is.

He turns the corner, and there she is. One of Iphi’s many pillows in her grasp, hips rutting against it and surely it will need to be washed deeply later. Blanche’s clothes are missing, a sheen of sweat over her body and the fur along her lower back seeming to stand on end.

Iphi knocks on the wood wall to alert her. She blinks blearily, no longer biting down on her torn-up - _ slightly bleeding, _ Iphi notes _ . poor lad. _ \- lip, looking up at him with unfocused eyes.

A shudder wracks her, as she croaks out for him.

“_ Iphi… _” she sobs weakly. “P..please.”

Iphi is frozen in place at the sound of her voice. It’s deep, several octaves deeper than even when she drops her facade around the house, hoarse from a clearly dry throat.

She whines, tears springing up in her eyes, arms letting go of the pillow and instead reaching out towards him. Desperation is clear in her eyes and voice.

“** _Pl--ease…!_ ** _ ” _

His body moves before his mind catches up, dipping a knee into the bed, one strong hand gripping Blanche’s thin arm. She gasped at the touch, nowhere sensitive, but still teetering between burning and soothing on her skin.

He discards his shirt, draping it over the raised rim of their shared bed, and fully moves onto the mattress. The miqo’te all but throws the pillow away from herself, latching on to her husband with a shaky breath. Lithe arms wrapped around him, head pushed directly against his chest as she sobs in temporary relief, his skin a calming, cool balm on her own.

Iphi takes note of her ears, pinned back as far as they’ll go and shaking like leaves. One hand moves up to pet at one, a soothing gesture he’d adapted to with his smaller husband, eyes rowing down her body now that he’s closer.

Blanche’s legs are drawn up to simulate a curl around him, twitching every so often, unable to help a few weak bucks of hips. Her cock is hard and heavy, an angry red and leaking profusely. It borders on soaking her crotch and inner thighs, matting the white fur around it that trails up her midriff. Iphi coos at his husband, planting a kiss on her head while his unoccupied hand draws a line down her chest to her pelvis.

A soft, shaky ‘please’ tumbles from her again, and his hand finally wraps around her length. There’s a choked sound it pulls from the miqo’te, especially when he drags his hand up and down a few times, thumb playing with the head and the extra skin that’s pulled down with his movements.

Claws dig into his back, catching on scales, and maybe he’s too focused on playing with her ear to notice she’s close until she shudders, coating his hand with a drawn-out whine. He pulls it away, only for her to tug him down as she falls backwards against the pillows.

Iphi ends up framing her body with his larger one, her head canting upwards to capture his lips, licking at them until he lets her in. She grunts, there’s a buck of hips against his waist, and when she pulls away to look at him, he can hardly make out the color of her eyes with her pupils so blown wide.

“S’this- okay?” 

Iphi almost can’t make it out at first, but then he feels her hands fidgeting at his waistband. There’s a smile on his face then, brows furrowed. 

‘_ Of course it is.’ _

Blanche’s ears perk at that, wasting no time in shoving her hands into his shorts, Iphi maneuvering to let them be pulled off and tossed to some unknown area in the home. Her fingers are on him already, rubbing lightly at the already dampening scales. She takes great care when she dips two in, Iphi shaking above her.

It doesn’t take long to coax his penises out, what with all the practice they’ve had. They’re heavy in her hands and dribbling and maybe she can’t help but rub at one to hear the gasp and squeak her husband lets out.

Even so.

Blanche lets go, the auri above her sitting up as she spreads her legs out, resting them on his thighs and suddenly she feels so _ exposed _, so vulnerable, and it makes her want to cover herself but she knows she’s in only the best of company, the only one who she’d allow to see her like this, at the mercy of a heat that burns her from the inside out.

Iphi takes one look at her, laid sweaty against the unmade bed, heaving chest and red faced, to know he doesn't need to ask if this is okay. Instead, a hand retrieves the little jar from his side of the bed, paying no mind to how much of the gel comes out on his fingers before he closes it, nearly tossing it in the process.

He may be a bit excited now, too.

The auri adjusts how his lover is sitting, pushing one furred leg up for more access. Her toes curl at such a simple action, moreso when those fingers touch her hole, accompanied by a hiss from the cold sensation.

Iphi spreads it around as best he can with the angle, pressing a tentative two fingers in. It feels different than when he usually preps her, almost like-

He looks at her with confused brows, withdrawing his fingers, much to Blanche's dismay and pleasure. His hand sits on her thigh instead, thumb rubbing circles into the flesh.

"Already," she breathes out. "I already.. just-"

She whines, face burning. Bashful, for once.

_ Just fuck me, _she thinks.

Iphi smiles, a small huff of a laugh at her behavior. Still, he removes his hand from her thigh, instead grunting when he grasps his lower cock, lining it up with her hole and pushing himself inside in one go.

The sound that comes out of Blanche is sweet in his ears, a cry of relief and pleasure, one that repeats when he tentatively begins rocking his hips against hers. Her back arches up, curved like the harpbow she sometimes fights with, and Iphi can't help but consider it beautiful.

Another plea is wheezed out, and he obliges, adjusting for better footing and smoothing a hand over her side. The moments he's pulling out, Blanche whines, too empty, too empty, only to choke on it when he plunges back in, starting that quick pace she needs all too much.

The bed rocks under the force of Iphi's movements, ornaments secured on the canopy swinging back and forth in tandem with his thrusting. If the two of them didn't know better, they'd think they would fall.

The hand holding her leg up by the milky thigh finally moves, letting the furred appendage rest on his own leg, bouncing lightly with its twin with every movement. It trails up, fingers lightly dragging along the marred skin, caressing the knotted scars along the way to her chest. It rises and falls frantically with her breaths, and touching against a nipple only serves to make her back arch back into his touch once more.

_ 'Beautiful _,' he signs with one hand, only serving to make her ears shake more as she tries to hide her face in the pillow.

The same hand grasps at her cock again, pumping out of tune with his own thrusts if only to rile her up further. Perhaps Iphi did like to tease her, every now and then, though it's short lived.

Blanche's hips grind up against his hand, a desperate whine in her throat that makes Iphi let go, only to smush his free cock against it and grip them both.

The warm, slick feeling makes the miqo'te bark out his name, hands reaching up to claw at his shoulders. The hand on her chest moves to instead brace him against the bed as he's pulled down by her weight, gold-haloed eyes drinking in her appearance as he's dragged. 

Her hair is matted with sweat, the braids long fallen out from their activity. Mismatched eyes are reduced to a thin ring of color, mouth hanging open while she pants through her pleasure.

Iphi leans down, chest against hers, - he marvels at how she _shakes_ at the contact - pecking a kiss to her jaw, minding the spittle that runs down her chin. The tears in her eyes start to peak over with the gentle gesture.

She feels like her heart is about to burst.

The taller man captures her lips, tongue sliding against hers and minding the sharp tang of metal. They can't really tell whose noises belong to who anymore, the only definitive ones being purrs and rumbles and trills that fill the spaces of the house above the wet sounds of skin on skin.

Blanche breaks away, pressing her chest up against Iphi's, claws scraping and catching at the intricate patches of keratin on his back.

"Mh…" she falters, taking a half a moment to breathe, and press her forehead against his. "- more… please, more, I _ need- _ gh..!"

Iphi looks at her with confusion on his brows, thrusts shallow to allow her to breathe. Hes startled for a moment, the feeling of her hand touching his other cock, leaking and sensitive in his hand against her own. And it clicks.

He looks at her again, breathing fast and clearly trying to swallow away the dryness in her throat while she looks half-lidded at him.

"_ Please _ , rose, _ fill me _…"

The auri feels like the air's been knocked out of him for a minute, sure he misheard, but her hand trying to toy with him between their bodies proves otherwise. He swallows, giving her lips one more peck before he sits up.

One hand reaches over his lover to retrieve a pillow, the other lifting her by the lower back, effectively scooping her up - still inside, she moans at the feeling, biting a lip. - only to deposit her back down, rump propped up by the pillow.

There's a soothing rub against her outer thigh, one she's more than grateful for, while Iphi retrieves more of the gel to rub around her already-stretched hole.

'You're sure?' he asks her. The smaller male's nod is almost too enthusiastic.

Iphi smiles softly down at that. This was far from the first time they've done this, but her mannerisms right now were different, endearing, and he couldn't help but drink it in.

He draws back, Blanche whining and digging her teeth into her lip as he pulls out, his hand rubbing both his dicks together, lining them both back up with her entrance. His lover's hands grip at the messed covers, surely tearing holes he will fix later, straining while he pushes back in.

The stretch is everything she'd wanted. It feels like it goes on forever, and by the time his hips are entirely flush against her own, she's panting. Looking down, there's a subtle bulge where she can see just how deep he is inside, more prominent when he decides to give a few shallow thrusts, accompanied by her gasps.

Iphi looks at her, smoothing a hand over that spot on her stomach and she's downright trembling, so much so it looks almost as if his lover will cum at any second. In fact, when he touches the bump, she keens, head falling back. He smiles.

He draws his hips back, a rumbling sound on his lips at the feeling, savoring the noise his husband makes when he snaps back forward. 

It's like the sweetest of tortures, Blanche would tell you. With both of his cocks inside, there's a consistent pressure against her prostate, his increasingly rough thrusting dragging friction across it and driving her so far up a wall she's not entirely sure what to do with herself.

Iphi keeps his hand splayed across her stomach, pressing ever so slightly and it does everything to drive her mad, stuck between the bed and the love of her life fucking her into the soft mattress. Every deep thrust wrenches sounds from her raw throat, laced with purrs that seem to fill every corner of the room. The auri licks his lips, leaning down to catch hers once more. 

He meets no resistance, - why would he? - free to map his lover's mouth once more, swallowing down every groan and gasp and ever-higher pitching moan. He can only imagine how she feels, her walls tight around him as he splits her open, not to mention the increasingly wet spot just below where his hand massages at her stomach.

Blanche's claws grip at his arms, a strained cry and a shudder at a particularly deep thrust. Speak of the devil, Iphi thinks, feeling the fresh warmth that smears between them and over his fingers.

He pulls away from their kiss, a string of spit snapping as he gets too far away, to admire her wrecked state. She's twitching, unfocused eyes blinking away tears, and the way she looks at him… 

His cocks jump inside her. Its with a grunt and a trill that he grips her hips, giving in to the urge to let go. In the back of his mind, he worries he may leave handprints on her thighs, though he's sure she would say she loves them. 

Blanche's chest heaves with her breathing, fast and woven with small cries. The overstimulation burns her to her core, cock leaking where it lays against her stomach. Her head rocks back out of instinct, exposing the expanse of her white throat to her lover. 

Of course, he recognizes the offer, the plea. He's seen it all too many times, but it still brings him to lick his lips, not hesitating for a moment before he leans in, sucking a dark mark where her neck meets the torso, the red color blooming. He licks the mark once to soothe it before he bites down there, and she chokes on an intake of air.

Her claws dig into his back, mouth hanging open with her strained sounds. He lets go, licking his lips as he leans back up to look at the mark he's left, red and angry and purple is already blooming into a bruise where his teeth were. He'd feel bad for hurting her if he didn't know better, eyes drifting to the rest of her. Her whole body is shaking like a leaf, and her insides clamp down on him.

Iphi grunts at the new tightness and friction, hips snapping forward a few times beyond his control. On the last one, he pulls back until he's almost slipped out, and pushes in as far as he can go, stilling for but a moment as Blanche's insides squeeze around him. His body shakes, but as he's about to pull back out to release, her deceptively strong legs lock him in place.

Iphi doesn't have the time to sign his confusion, instead crumpling forward, hunched over the miqo'te as his orgasm hits him. Blanche's head rests back against the bed, fingers digging in the covers, a drawn-out sigh that trails into a whine.

His cocks throb, and he bites his lip as he empties himself inside of her. He watches her face, and the more that fills her, the more labored her breaths get, whimpering and bringing a hand to her face to bite, her nerves are fried already, and she can't quite do anything to cope with the burning feeling that fills her up.

When his release finally subsides, he wipes her fringe from her sweaty face, pulling at her hand to make her let go of it, a small tut on his tongue. A shuddering breath wrecks her when she does, and her hand moves to touch her stomach, though stopping short.

"Fu-ck…" she heaves out, chest laboured while she leans her head back against the bed to catch some air. "_ Iphi _…"

Iphi looks down, a skip in his chest when he sees the previous bump on her belly. It's larger now, no doubt due to the copious amount of cum he'd let out inside her. It's not huge, hardly, but in comparison to her normally flat stomach, the difference is clear. Experimentally, he presses his palm against it, and she moans at the pressure, fingers twisting at the covers, her cock jumping where it rests against her skin. 

A thought crosses Iphi's mind, and he grinds his hips against hers, ever so slightly pushing and pulling.

She chokes on a sob, teeth digging into her lip with a whine. Her back arches, involuntarily bucking up as she spills over another time from the overstimulation, high pitched moans coming with each breath.

'_ You're taking it all so well, _ ' Iphi signs to her, once she blinks the focus back into her eyes. ' _ Such a good boy. _'

Blanche hides her face in her hands, burning in embarrassment. She gasps beneath them when Iphi starts to gently pull out, removing the pillow from under her at the same time.

Her legs close when her husband gets up from his spot, wobbling for a moment when he stands at the rim of the bed. She's heavy when he leans forward to drag her a bit towards him, gathering the limp, sweaty, full cat into his arms.

She latches on to him, arms wrapped around his neck and tail curling around him. The purr from her throat has been constant the whole time, but now, without anything to muffle it, it fills the whole room while she nuzzles against his shoulder.

"Love you," is muffled against his skin, followed by countless quiet more.

Iphi hardly meets resistance when he plops her down on the edge of the square bath, instructing her to lean back with his hands. Well, hardly. Her arms refuse to move from around his neck, even when he props a knee against the bath seat, leaning down to get a better view.

He has to take care of everything left inside, after all, separating her legs with gentle arms. There's some thats already oozed out, coating her inner thighs and running down to the wood under her.

Blanche looks at him with a somewhat confused expression, not quite all there yet. She jumps when two of his fingers push in, head lightly knocking against the wall while he works and twists and crooks them to get as much of the sticky substance out as he can. The sound she lets out is a mix between a gasp and a moan. Iphi can't help but think about how he loves it.

It comes out in globs, puddling beneath her. He pushes lightly against her stomach as he does it, her legs shaking at the myriad of feelings she's experiencing. In fact, her cock is hard against her flattened stomach once more.

A peek down of her eyes shows her that Iphi is excited too, haloed browns fixed on what he's doing. Perhaps he twists and buries his fingers back in even when he's finished a few times, but he'd surely deny it if asked.

His cocks twitch between his legs at every sound she makes. Blanche licks her lips, hunger gnawing at her again, but not so much with the fervent and desperate desire to breed anymore. It's still there, of course it is, but it's been put on the back burner while she chases more conscious wants.

Her hands move from his neck, resting on his shoulders and making a pulling motion instead. Iphi lets himself be pulled up, a surprised squeak escaping him when the sides of his face are cupped and their lips are together again.

His fingers pull out, pressing his palms to the wood as he loses himself in the way she explores his mouth with renewed vigor. There's a rumbling sigh that Blanche feels more than she hears, ears twitching at the pleasured sound.

She drags her hands along his arms, nails lightly scraping at the patches of scales on his upper arm, tracing the intricate patterning in the keratin. There's a smile that Iphi can feel in the kiss, and before his mind can wonder why, she's already gripped his arms and switched their positions with a strength that shouldn't be possible for someone of such small stature.

Blanche clambers on top of him, arms back in their place around his neck, and the purr in her throat bounces off the walls of their little bathroom. There's a predatory, hungry look in her mismatched eyes, clearly relishing in the way his hands grip at her hips instinctively when she grinds down against him, rubbing their cocks together.

The friction makes him pant under her; twelve both bless and curse his husband's stamina. 

"Good?" she breathes, moving to mouth at the scales that plate the front of his neck. He nods, chin rubbing against her head. "Good, me - ah! - ..me too, rose."

She cuts herself off with a particularly pleasurable roll, tail swaying and curling behind her. As much as she loves having her head cradled in the crook of Iphi's neck, she straightens her back out once again, giving his face small kisses between the breaths caused by the friction of their lower bodies. 

Blanche's claws scratch at the wood as her catlike legs stabilize her, still straddling the raen beneath her, but raising herself up away from him. A hand reaches down, grasping at the two newly-slickened and wet cocks beneath her, Iphi's fingers involuntarily digging into the skin around her hips, and she rubs, a twist in her wrist as she does it just like he likes it.

"Iph', my beautiful rose," her tone is hushed, breathy. Carrying so much emotion in it when she bumps their noses and runs her cheek against the curve of his intact horn, looking at him with hooded eyes and a fanged smile.

He looks back at her, golden brown eyes misty in their own right and a blush spreading across his dark skin that makes his freckles practically glow as he nose brushes his again.

"I love ya so much."

It's spoken so softly, full of a feeling and reverence he can't quite describe himself, and it makes him shiver even before she lowers herself on his cocks again, sinking down with the prettiest of sounds. The bulge in her tummy is back again, her ears twitching and tail lazily wagging as she all-too-obviously looks down at it with a bitten lip.

Iphi connects the dots easily. It's hard not to, what with how she looks at it, not to mention the quiet moans the simple act of pressing his palm against it brings from her throat. He catches her lips, short and sweet and brings his hands up.

'_ What am I going to do with you, honestly? _'

Blanche laughs at that, breathy and quiet and it feels so light when she looks him in the eyes again, metal fang glinting in the light it catches.

"'ve got'n idea or two."

'_ Oh? _'

Her eyes slip closed, brushing her lips against his again.

"Mate me."

She kisses him deep, his body rigid at the words. His fingers tighten and dig into her hips, and she grins into their kiss. They may have already finished a round, but the way she'd phrased it made Iphi's heart flutter.

The raen supports her as she raises her hips, helping in the motion when they come back down with a muffled cry. They move together, reveling in the feeling of their bodies and skin touching, connecting, like they were made for eachother.

_ They were, remember? They're one in the same, two pieces of a whole. One, but two. _

Blanche's hands explore Iphi's body, running along scales and muscle and freckles, fingers tracing his spine where it curves to allow them to kiss. She presses her fingers above his tail, hearing it whap against the wood as it wags. He pulls her impossibly closer, smashing their chests together while he thrusts to meet her bouncing. Everything sounds so much louder in the smaller room.

Blanche breaks off from their kiss, gasping out much-needed and shaking breaths. Iphi's chin rests on her head, her mouth returning to his neck. Licks, nips, bites, the scrape of teeth against hardened keratin, it all pulls pleasured sounds from her beloved husband, accompanied by out of rhythm thrusts.

A particularly rough brush has her lurching forward, pressing her head against his shoulder with a shudder and hunched back, claws involuntarily digging into the skin of his lower back.

“_ Ah- Iph- _”

Her gasp is harsh, still being strung along from her earlier climaxes. The stimuli is really getting to her, she thinks to herself, nerves starting to burn again where Iphi drags along her insides and their skin touches. She’d long since stopped being able to move herself, her legs straining, but the raen’s movements are exactly as powerful as one would expect with his muscles.

He bounces the keeper in his lap, one strong arm supporting her lower back. She’s panting so loudly with every movement, Iphi can’t help but drive further and harder into her, if only to hear the various sounds they pull from those chewed up lips of hers.

“Iphi,” Blanche croaks. “Iphi, _ Iphi..!” _

She repeats his name like a mantra between heavy breaths, holding on to it like a lifeline, much like her claws against his sweaty skin. It takes more effort than she’s willing to admit, but she manages to lift her head.

There’s a look that Iphi catches in her half-lidded eyes when she looks back up at him, mouth hanging open, a string of spittle connecting her upper and lower fangs that hasn’t gotten the chance to snap. Perhaps it’s a combination of that and the whole night they’ve had, the sounds and smells being let off, but something in him snaps. As does his pelvis, surprising Blanche and causing her ears to pin back, letting out a high-pitched cry that sounds like it’s been ripped straight from her chest.

Her tail coils around her husband’s leg, a futile attempt to ground her as she goes rigid, painting Iphi’s skin white with a shaking cry.

Iphi smiles, wrapping his arms around her, not stopping his movements while he buries his nose in her hair. He takes a deep breath, arms tightening with a grunt, feeling the first waves of release flood over him. He hears the smaller male moan, no doubt at the feeling that’s only just beginning. 

Blanche’s grip tightens on her husband, smushed so tight against him that she has nowhere to run, - not that she would. Twelve only know how long she’s wanted this. _ needed _ this. - sobbing into his chest through the overstimulation that she loves maybe a little bit too much. 

She feels that pressure in her stomach again as she’s filled, unable to help yet another weak spill from her dick, spent, because gods damn him, her husband can read her all too well. He just keeps burying his cocks deeper inside her, pushing and pulling as he lets everything out inside of her for the second time that night. 

Moments pass, and Iphi quickly has a lapful of whimpering miqo’te in his lap. Through his own laboured breaths, he pets at Blanche’s ear, lips brushing against the other velvety-soft appendage. The ornament hanging from one clinks at the ministrations, the pads of Iphi’s fingers brushing over the trembling cartilage with utmost care as his smaller husband tries to settle her breathing.

They can both feel the obvious roundness to her stomach again that wasn’t typically there, Blanche twitching when they press too close together and it puts pressure on it. He can’t help but admire the fact that’s possible, not to mention that she seems to be very much enjoying the strain. Patting her lower back, Iphi lifts her off of his retracting cocks with ease, limp like putty in his arms, like she’s already falling asleep from exertion, as he leans her back to sign at her.

‘_ Let’s get you cleaned up,’ _ he pauses, a smile on his face. ‘ _ And _ ** _out_ ** _ , before nap time. _’

She grumbles, puffing her cheeks out, but providing no resistance when he moves her over on a knee to start running their overdue bath.

“Iphii_ iiiii _…”

‘_ No, none of that. Can’t have you getting a tummy ache. _’

“Nnnnnhh….fiiine,” she nuzzles against the nearest horn. “Cuddle after? Please?”

He looks at her, her eyes big, like a kitten, pleading. There’s a chuckle on his lips, which he presses to her head. She smiles back at him.

‘_ Of course, Kovie. _’

  


She leans against him. Truly, there’s no other she’d entrust herself to.


End file.
